


Obvious

by sansuhhhsnark



Series: Drabbles [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Post-Series, Starklings, mentions of Jon/Ygritte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansuhhhsnark/pseuds/sansuhhhsnark
Summary: "Yes, she thinks. It was all so obvious now."Jon and Sansa reminisce over their new daughter.





	Obvious

"She's just so _precious_. I'm still so in awe of her."

They were stretched out across their bed, Jon tickling little Lyarra under her chin. The babe giggled up at her father, and Jon and Sansa both laughed.

"She is rather wonderful, isn't she?" Sansa snuggled closer to her daughter, giving Lya one of her fingers to hold. "How could something so absolutely perfect come out of such a fractured world like ours?"

"Sometimes the most beautiful beginnings come from broken ends," he said, giving Lya's chubby cheek a kiss.

Sansa propped herself up on an elbow.

"Jon that was an uncharacteristically romantic things for you to say."

Her husband gave a loose lock of her hair a gentle tug, smiling.

"My beautiful ladies seem to bring out the best parts of me." He curled the red strands around his finger. "You do such a good job with her, love. You were meant to be a mother."

"And you a father."

She leaned over, careful of the babe, to give him a gentle kiss. Sansa smiled down at her little pup, with the downy tufts of dark hair so like Jon's, and her chubby cheeks round and pink. Her little rosebud mouth was pursed as she gazed up at her parents like infants are wont to do, focusing and unfocusing on the world around them, delighting in a familiar face or familiar voice. Sansa kissed the dear little face and breathed in the sweet scent of her.

"Did you ever dream this would happen? That we would be here, in Winterfell, raising sons and daughters, hearing our children's voices echoing through the halls as ours once did?"

"Aye, I dreamed of it." Jon's scarred hand was large against Lyarra's rounded belly, moving gently with each breath she took. "I dreamed of it, but I didn't dare hope. I wished to be Lord of Winterfell, once, with children of my own and a son named Robb."

"And your lady wife?" Sansa asked, teasingly.

Jon pauses, contemplating. "I was never able to hope for Ygritte. We were so young, and I was still a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, and then she died." His face is grim at the memory. "Besides, she was too wild, too willful. She wouldn't have been happy being constrained in the role of a lord's wife."

"And am I so constrained by being your wife, husband?" she asks, lightly.

"You're more than just a wife, Sansa. You flourish in your role, far more than I ever could in mine. I may be King, but our people know it is the Queen in the North who rules over every man in the kingdom, including me." He smiles at her, proud. "I never once dreamed that I would have a wife as lovely and kind and clever as you, Sansa. You're my partner in all things."

She leans over to kiss him again.

"You know," she says, after a moment, "I dreamt of a son named Robb as well." She threads her fingers though his. "I dreamt of many children to raise and love, and a home of my own to run. I wanted a little girl who looked like Arya- like you. I wished to marry a prince who would love me like Aemon Targaryen the Dragonknight loved his Queen Naerys."

She gave a small laugh, reminiscing on the dreams of that young girl who had died so long ago in King's Landing. Would she be this happy, married to her brother-turned-cousin, now a bastard-turned-king?

"Once, Father promised me that I would marry someone brave, gentle, and strong, and now here you are."

He was so much more than she deserved, more than she ever could have wished for in her foolish girl's heart. He's more than she could have _known_ to wish for, stupid as she once was. 

Jon kissed the back of her hand.

"Growing up, whenever Robb and I played at swords, I would choose to be the Dragonknight."

"And Robb would be Florian the Fool," Sansa said, remembering. "It's all so obvious now."

She settles back down against the furs and blankets, and sinks into the soft pillow, sighing. Her eyes meet her husband's from across the bed and they smile at each other- gently, comfortingly, lovingly.

 _Yes_ , she thinks. _It was all so obvious now._

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr at sansuhhhsnark!


End file.
